Magic, not in our world Or is it?
by Chasey-gryffindor221B
Summary: Six children evacuated from London in the heights of the Blitz. Four siblings, one dreamer and an Orphan. Two worlds. One Wardrobe.
1. Chapter 1

~ Thea ~

I sighed lightly, as I glanced around the crowded train station, watching as families parted; children saying goodbye to their mothers and other family members, that were here to see them off. I was here alone, escorted from the orphanage by a stranger, and now alone, as they tended to the younger children.

I wasn't always alone. Until the last week, I had a family, I had a life, until the German menace had something to say about that. My father died overseas, in a battlefield somewhere, while my mother died in the bombing raid, three days ago. She was running inside, to grab another blanket for the shelter, and to get the last photograph we had of my father, when a bomb landed directly on the roof. She had no chance.

I've not spoken a word since I heard her screams and saw the house collapse. I dragged her out the next morning; I refused to let the rescue forces work without my help. Now, I wish that I had.

I clutch the small locket in my hands, and weave through the crowds, and join the queue of children joining the train. Many were holding luggage or their sibling's hands, glancing around for one last look at their mothers or aunts or someone they knew. I stared forwards, keeping my face emotionless; I've cried enough in public.

As the line moved forward, I saw that the majority of the children being evacuated were younger than myself; most were ten or eleven. Placing the locket in my pocket, I reached into another and brought out my train ticket. When I reached the women standing either side of the doorway, I handed them the small piece of paper in my hand before they said, and they smiled, muttering something like, "Someone who's prepared. Nice for a change."

They handed it back to me, before allowing me on. "Here you go darling." The woman with curly, grey hair said, as she gently steered me towards the compartments. "Now go on, and find a seat."

I muttered a quiet thank you, as I walked past her, and searched for an empty seat. Most of the compartments were already full, and I found it hard to get a space. Luckily, I eventually came across an empty one. I stepped in, and shut the door behind me, before reaching up and placing my small bag of belongings into the luggage space above me, and sitting beside the window, my book in my hands.

I sat upright, and held my head high, my face still emotionless as I looked out and saw that there were almost no children left on the platform now, and that it was mainly women searching the windows for one last goodbye. Sighing deeply, I lent backwards, undoing the braid in my hair and opening the book. _The Hobbit_ by J.R.R Tolkien. I loved it, it was a fitting novel for my journey, as I would soon be leaving for my own adventure, like dear Bilbo Baggins.

I was grateful for the orphanage, letting me keep the book. I heard a shrill whistle, and then a conductor shouting "All aboard!" over all the noise. I looked back to the door, to find everyone walking past it; children crying, holding their siblings close, but as I turned back to open the book, I heard the door open, and four others stood there; two boys and two girls.

"Sorry, but can we all sit here? There's no other seats." The oldest, a boy who looked eighteen said to me, holding his youngest sister's hand. I smiled a little and nodded lightly.

"Go ahead. It would be nice for some company." I replied, shifting my sleeve on my arm a little, to hide an old injury, that I would rather avoid talking about.

The four walked inside, with the oldest girl closing the door behind them all. The oldest two, and the youngest sat on the three seats opposite me, while two seats to my left, the other boy slumped down, staring out of the window in the door, and ignoring all attempts of conversation with his siblings.

As the train juttered forward, I opened the book and read the first line; _In a hole in the ground, there lived a Hobbit._

"What's your name?" I heard someone ask, and I glanced up, to see that the youngest, the girl with pigtails was smiling at me, sitting forward expectantly.

"My name's Thea Carter." I said, smiling. "Can I ask you the same question, seeing as we're all stuck here for a while?" The girl laughed, while I heard a scoff come from the boy sitting near me; his older brother scolding him quickly.

"Lucy." The girl said, moving so that she sat next to me. "My name's Lucy Pevencie, and this is Peter, Susan and Edmund." She said, pointing to each one in turn. Peter muttered a 'hello' in my direction, while Edmund did nothing. Susan, however, came fixated with the book on my lap.

"Which book is that?" She asked, and I looked down at it, before holding it out to her.

"The Hobbit." I said, as she took it from my hands, quickly reading the back cover, and handing it back to me.

"It sounds like a good book." She said. "A little childish, but it sounds good."

"Can you read the first bit for me?" Lucy asked, tugging my sleeve a little.

"Luce." I heard Peter say, wearily. As if to tell his younger sister that she'd gone too far. "I doubt that she wants to."

"No, it's fine." I reply, as Lucy looks happier than ever, though slightly depressed. I can't imagine what else it would be, other than their departure from their family back in London. Edmund scoffs again, and this time, Peter hits him gently on the shoulder, before glaring.

Ignoring that, I open the book once more, and began reading, Lucy hanging onto almost every word.


	2. Chapter 2

I read the first chapter or two for Lucy, until we decided that two chapters was enough. I'd read the book a lot in the last few days, as I found that it was my only comfort. Around midday, the train began to slow down, and I guessed that we were pulling into a station. Folding down the corner of the book, I closed the cover and checked the label hanging from my collar. As the conductor on the platform began shouting the name of the platform, I sighed in relief when I found that I wasn't getting off here.

"Where are you going?" Lucy asked, as she heard me sigh. I glanced down to the label a second time, but the location of my destination was unfamiliar to me.

"I don't know." I say, but as I read the label a little more, I glance at the name, of the people who are taking me in. "But apparently, I'm being taken in by a... Professor Digory Kirke."

Peter grasps the label attached to his jacket, and looks down at it. His face turns into a frown, confusion written all over it. "That's weird." He says, and we all look at him.

"What is?" Edmund and Susan ask at the same time, but I get an idea what he will soon say.

"That's where we're being sent." He says and Lucy's face lights up in joy. She jumps up and down. hugging me tightly.

"Lucy, let go of the poor girl." Susan says, and Lucy quickly retracts her arms from around my waist, before muttering a 'sorry' and sitting beside her sister, staring out of the window.

I sigh as I glance outside, to see two siblings being split up. I silently thanking the world that these four were kept together in the Evacuation, although I felt very sorry about those two that got split up. This was one of the times, that I was glad that I was an only child.

The train juttered forward, and continued down its route, stopping at stations every so often, to drop children off.

~*~

It was hours before the train came to a standstill at a deserted platform, with a sign saying a location that I was unfamiliar with. Geography has never been my strongest point, and I doubt that it will be. I glanced down at my label, and saw that it was the location of the Professor's house, and I stood up, grabbing my bag above my head before picking up the book and opening the door. But before I do, I glance back to the other four. Peter and Lucy had fallen asleep, and Susan was reading. Edmund was staring longingly at my empty seat.

"You know that we've all got to get off now, right?" I ask, gently nudging Peter's shoulder to wake him up. At my words he stirs before they sink in, and he quickly jumps up, helping Susan get the bags down. I offer to help but they brush it aside, and I walk outside onto the platform.

Nobody stands there to greet me, and nobody walks past. The place is empty and a small dirt road crosses over the tracks. I stand there, clutching onto my bag, hoping that I wasn't in the wrong place, when I hear the four siblings walk off the train. They seem to be thinking the same thing as me, but I choose to ignore them, sitting down on the broken bench and watch as the train's doors are closed and the locomotive sped away along the tracks.

I sat there, watching the smoke dispersed around the corner, and we were left in silence. The five of us didn't say anything for a moment, believing that we were all in the wrong place.

"Are they sure that anyone lives here?" I asked, speaking up, and they turn to look at me, all of them without an answer. Edmund picks up the label that's been attached to him, and reads it.

"Perhaps we've been incorrectly labeled?" He says, and Susan shakes her head.

"Not five people, no Ed." She says, worried.

We all turn to the dirt road when we hear the engine of a car, and I jump to my feet, my bag tight in my hand. I turn my head to see a car heading this way, driven by an old man with grey hair and glasses, with a young girl, around Edmund's age in the front seat. Her face in planted in a book, but she glances up at us, when she hears the four siblings run forward, to try and get the attention of the driver. Maybe that was the Professor? I hope not.

I watch in disbelief as he drives straight past us, not even noticing us standing there. He drove inches away from the siblings, so why did he not see them? I slowly walk down from the platform and sigh in a state of depression. If that was him, does that mean we have to walk?

"Did he even know that we were coming?" Peter asked Susan, and she doesn't give an answer. Wrapping my arms around myself, I sit down on the lowest step from the platform, and stare at the ground around my feet. Dirt, and lots of it. The sight is a big change from the usual concrete surroundings of London. The quiet is a massive change from the hubbub of talk and the roar of engines. The sounds of life, that what I miss right now.

The sound of hoof prints makes me glance upwards, and I see an elderly woman bringing a horse and carriage to a stop in front of the Pevensie's.

"Mrs Macready?" Peter asks slowly, and apprehensively. She looks down at him, and her face is emotionless; her glasses seem to amplify the hidden glare she gives them.

"I'm afraid so." She replies, and she glances around the four of them, taking good care at looking at their bags. "Is that it then? Haven't you brought anything else?"

"No, ma'am." Peter answers, before casting a glance around his siblings. "It's just us."

She nods slowly, before getting a small piece of paper out of her coat pocket. "Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy Pevensie, and Thea Carter." She says, glancing at the four, and then at me. As I make eye contact with her, she speaks to me. "I take it that you're Thea Carter, then." she comments, as the four get onto the back of the cart.

"Yes, I am Miss." I reply.

"Well, come on, let's get the five of you to the Manor." Mrs Macready says, as I walk forward, to the back of the cart, and sit down at the edge. I grip the sides tightly, as I hold my bag with my feet, and the horse is ushered onward.


	3. Chapter 3

~ Dana ~

As I sat in the motorcar with my Uncle Digory, I thought about those people who he said were coming to live with us. Five more people in our house. I was eager to meet them, maybe one of them is the same age as me?

I read on through the book in my hands, as he drove home, and I heard the sound of footsteps nearby, and I looked up quickly, to see four people running up to the car, with a fifth person sitting on the steps of the nearby railway platform. I tried to get my Uncle to stop, but carried on.

"Mrs Macready will be collecting them, Dana" He says, without glancing away from the dirt road.

Before long, the house turns up and as the car is switched off, I jump out and race inside, desperate for another note from my mother. I haven't seen her in years, and I've been living with Uncle Digory since before I could remember anything else. I lightly tap a Maid on the shoulder, the one who usually deals with the post, and she turns around to me.

"Is there anything from my mother?" I ask hopefully. The maid glances at the notes in her hands, and I see a yellow one. A Telegram. Bad news in written form. And it broke my heart when she picked it out, and gave it to me.

"I'm sorry Miss Dana." She said, as she let go, leaving it in my hands. "But you might want to talk about this with your Uncle." She walks away, and I turn to see my Uncle. The first thing he catches, is the yellow letter now in my hands, and silently, I hand it to him, tears in my eyes. This cannot be happening, not to me. Not to us.

He quickly ripped open the letter and read the words inside in silence, before pulling me into a hug, messing with pigtails. "Dana, your mother is missing." He whispers, and I feel the first tears brim in my eyes, as my mouth goes dry. _Missing?!_

"What do you mean, 'missing'?" I ask in a whisper, trying to keep my voice strong.

My Uncle pulls out of the hug, before kneeling down before me. "We'll have to talk in my office." He says soothingly, before taking my hand in his, and leading us there. He then, shuts the door behind us, as we walk in and I sit lightly in the chair reserved just for me.

Uncle Digory sits in his usual leather chair and sighs lightly, before looking at me. "Dana, do you remember me telling you about those nasty Gas Camps set up, but Hitler?" He asks, and I nod, afraid of where this is going. "Well, it's been said that Hitler's men have gotten your mother, and they've taken her there." He stops at the end, as his voice breaks and I let the words sink in.

She's gone?

I feel the tears pour like rain in the Indies monsoon season, down my face, and I bury my face in my hands, and let out a sob. Once I begin, I cannot stop, and not even when my Uncle's embrace is felt around me, do I respond. He attempts to talk to me, but I run out of the door, and fly up the staircase to my room. I slam the door and collapse onto my bed, sobbing wildly, mourning my mother.

The news continues to eat its way through my heart, until I feel like it might break.


End file.
